Murder as Art
by RusCanWonderland
Summary: Matthew needs help to catch the Red Dragon killer, who has been attacking young women for months. He enlists the help of ex-special agent Ivan Braginski, who has interesting insights behind the minds of killers, considering the fact that he was one. (Hannibal inspired AU)
1. Chapter 1

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings:** Cannibalism, murder, rape, hannibal references

**Notes:** THIS IS NOT A TAME AU. It is heavily based off of the three Anthony Hopkins Hannibal movies. It does not have that many references to the newer Hannibal TV series, as Matthew claims more of a Clarice Starling role with a few Will Graham traits.

* * *

Ivan couldn't quite remember the last time he had seen natural daylight. His cell had no windows and only a single glass wall with a door and a sliding tray to pass food and water through. The food he received was glorified gruel and stuck to the palette in the same way that peanut butter did. The cell itself was rather roomy under the circumstances. It had a bed, a toilet, and a desk that Ivan had used to store many of his drawings and the soft bits of charcoal and pastel and crayon he had been given. The art piled up was of various things from memory. Places he had been, faces he had seen in paintings, the twisting sinews of statues that looked like real people. Beautiful things, wonderful things, untainted by time or the ugliness of humanity.

Ivan looked up from smearing charcoal in a shaded line of the Vatican's dome. There was a grind of cell doors and the man refused to tear his eyes from the glass as he listened to delicate footsteps. Heeled boots. To make the person seem taller, more intimidating… A scent of fleece… Of lavender and ocean breeze fabric soap and softener… And something else… Something seductive and heated and sweet… The person themselves must have a weakness for sweets.

Ivan stood slowly when the blonde came in sight, bobbed blonde curls, a sweetly soft face and the arch of an elegant French nose. He had rather sweet looking lips as well, and full, plump cheeks. The coat he wore hung baggy and concealing over a thin frame and the man in the cell could see the slim cut of the pants and the navy blue turtleneck beneath the tan coat.

"Well well well… What has Arthur Kirkland of the FBI sent to me this time…" The man approached the glass and peered curiously down at the blonde before he smirked and purred lowly. "He really shouldn't have."

The murder leaned forward and his eyes dragged slow and languid over the blonde's form and clothing, and the force of the gaze was so intense that it was surprising to any third party watching that fabric hadn't been all but torn off of the thin frame.

"Let me guess…" The man hummed for a moment before he straightened slightly. "From you dress you're a cadet in the FBI training academy down in Quantico, you don't wear a suit or the type of shoes that someone of a higher status would wear or even be able to afford and not true FBI agent would be caught without a suit in some form or another when coming into a place like this. It's some subconscious way to assert dominance in the FBI, dressing nicer than the person you interrogate." Eyes flicked down to the packet of papers in the boy's slender fingers. "But you aren't here to interrogate me are you? That folder isn't thick enough to be a case file nor is it written on or copied with notes in any way, which means that it's that rather dull and ham-handed survey that Kirkland sends me every year…" The tip of the man's tongue dragged over his upper lip. "Which means that he's finally begun to appeal to my taste in aesthetics by sending me a pretty little cadet with big blue eyes and soft looking cheeks in hopes of softening me up enough to give you what he wants." Large hands planted against the two vertical bars that helped support the bulletproof glass of the wall. "So tell me… Matthew… Why did you agree to Kirkland's sticky little scheme?"

Matthew tilted his head and smiled, his stance never wavering as he peered directly at Ivan's face, unphased and gentle as ever. "My, you're as observant as everyone says; perhaps you'll dazzle me and tell me how many eyelashes Iater, hm?" The blonde sat in the in the single, lonely chair a good three feet away from the glass prison.

"As to why I agreed, I believe that isn't quite your business yet," Matthew hummed, his lips parting to take in a breath as he smoothed the folder's cover as it rested against his thighs. "How are you? Seeing as there's really no need for introductions, you've seemed to have figured me out the moment I walked in the door."

Matthew would not admit how it disturbed him, but he figured he should've expected it.

"I'm in an eight by ten cell and have been for the past twenty years… All things considered i'm doing quite well." The man tilted his head towards the holes at the top of the glass wall, breathing deeply and humming in pleasure. "How were the pancakes you had for breakfast? I haven't had anything decent in years so must take my pleasure from the enjoyment of others." The older male tooled his head down and smirked at the blonde. He could smell the tenseness of the blonde and it thrilled him to see the nervous twitches of the pale form.

Matthew laughed softly and shrugged up a shoulder. "They're my favorite, Ivan. But I suppose it's a little redundant to ask you yours?" The blonde smiled, peering over his glasses at the man behind the glass's face.

Ivan grinned and dragged his tongue over his upper lip. "You've seen my file then? Thoughts?" Violet eyes fixed on Matthew's in intense interest. He liked this child… He caught the cannibal's attention in more ways than one.

"I'm not sure of anyone in the agency that hasn't seen you file, Mr. Braginski. It's honestly a…commodity around the office," Matthew smile and crossed one knee over the other, a gentle little smile on his face. "As for my personal thoughts? Well," Matthew laughed softly, fingertips gently pressing to his lips lightly, "…I think we can withhold something for another time."

"I don't receive conjugal visits, my dear." The man leaned against the glass and his eyes flared add they trailed over the curves of the blonde's leg and hip. "And am I to assume that you spent last night looking over that file of mine? The circles under your eyes are rather telling… And you have been glancing at my drawings."

"They're very good,…though I suppose to do what you have done, a skilled hand is favored?" Matthew smiled and shifted, a fingertip trailing along the edges of the papers in his lap. "And you will receive conjugal visits from me, now, , aren't you ever so lucky to have a fresh cadet to torment?" the blonde teased, a smile hidden behind a conveniently dipped head. "You sound proud of that file….as proud of your drawings?"

"My file is filled with works of art, just as my cell is." The man tilted his head. "You could say that my file is the most viewed artistic portfolio in the world next to Leonardo Da Vinci." The man smirked. "I have elevated murder into an art form in the way I posed my victims and then again in the way I cooked them… Before my arrest food critics the world over sang my praises."

"Do you have a favorite?" Matthew asked suddenly, his smile still tracing his lips. "….praise I mean. I wouldn't dare ask you a favorite…recipe," the blonde hummed, not once glancing down at the papers in his lap. Instead, he tried to ignore the twist in his stomach just listening to what Ivan had to say.

"My favourite praise was from a French chef I had invited to dinner when I went to visit Paris one year. Consequently I had served him my favourite meal, braised lungs and a roasted heart on a bed of asparagus, spinach and tomatoes." Ivan smirked and his voice lowered as he watched Matthew. "He had equated the sensation of eating his own coworker with making love in a most beautiful wine garden to the goddess Aphrodite herself."

Matthew was quiet for a moment, his head tilted just so as he gazed at Ivan from his safe distance, safe from what, he wasn't sure."You say it as though it were a beautiful, intimate thing…making love to wine and having euphoric sensations over food no matter the meat's origin. It's very poetic…like a song. Like your art…how interesting, Mr. Braginski."

"Do you know who my victims were?" Ivan smirked and his tongue flicked over his upper lip. "Murders, rapists, thieves, frauds and abusers. They were the scum of the earth that the law had let roam free without so much add a slap on the wrists." Ivan's eyes flared. "I exacted justice, and in doing so I turned then into something beautiful, artistic. Whoever they were in life, however low and vile, I turned them into art and delight, a visual artwork and an edible poem."

"Do you think someone deserves that," Matthew started with a gentle head tilt. "…a so called beautiful death, an artistic demise…when they were nothing but the scum of the earth?" the blonde asked, his finger trailing over the paper's edge slowly.

"I believe that people must give back something beautiful to the world in their lifetime. How else would those criminals, those sub-humans, have given something beautiful if not for their deaths?" Ivan's eye followed the trail of the slender digit before they dragged up the thin arm, over shoulders and collarbones, as if he were undressing the blonde with only his eyes.

"And what would you say to someone who doesn't particularly…share or understand your beliefs?" Matthew asked softly, eyes set on Ivan's face, his gaze watching Ivan's carefully.

"Then that is their belief." The man smirked. "I knew the consequence to my actions. I had expected death or life in prison and honestly revelled in the thought of being sent to prison, to expand my dossier. What I hadn't expected was to be placed in here to have my mind fumbled at like a freshman with a young girl's bra."

Ivan smirked as his fingers dragged over the metal supports of his wall, his eyes doing the same over Matthew's body, cataloguing every soft curve and wonderful dip in the frame before him. "Do you not share my belief, cadet? Maybe I could convert you."

Matthew laughed softly, fingers touching his lips lightly. "I highly doubt you could convert me to any of your beliefs, Mr. Braginski…though it's quite amusingbto think you could try and convert me."

Ivan smirked as he stared intently at the blonde for a moment before he spoke. "And what is that thing you've been fiddling with? Hmmm?"

"Thing? Honestly for someone as intelligent as you, it's a little disappointing to see that you don't know what a personal file looks like," Matthew smiled, cool and guarded but as gentle as ever.."I must say as much as your case seems to disturb everyone onthe force, it is still highly fascinating."

Ivan raised an eyebrow at the file before he spoke up. "As flattering as it would be for you to bring my own file to me… That's not mine is it? Too thin…" Violet eyes fixed on blue, luring Matthew closer. "Its that wild rascal that the FBI has been hunting, the lady killer, the… Tooth Fairy add he's been so crassly named." Ivan smirked and raised an eyebrow. "any thoughts as to why he's named such a ridiculous name?"

Matthew smiled and leaned forward, elbows on the paper file as he gazed at Ivan through the glass. "Well, I can assure you it isn't because he's a sweet little pixie that likes leaving quarters for children,…some say it's because of an oral fixation with biting victims, but others I think just like to call him that to tick him off," the blonde sighed, his eyes gazing at the cover folder on top of his thighs. "…you know more about him than just his little nickname, Mr. Braginski?"

Ivan's lips curled into a smirk. "And what would you be willing to give me if I did?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow, his fingers tapping along the door frame as he stared intently at Matthew. "Because I know a great deal about our mouthy friend… Because we don't have long before he finds that next special lady."

The blonde frowned quietly, but attempted to hide it behind a gentle smile. "And what exactly could I give to you, Mr. Braginski? I don't think money is something you'd particularly be after, and you're aware I can't even begin to argue a pardon for you. But," Matthew sighed, tucking a curl behind his ear. "…I believe even you can sympathize with how important it is to bring him in before someone else is hurt."

Sharp teeth were shown in a grin. "But nothing doesn't get you something, Cadet." Ivan leaned forward. "I won't speak with anyone else about this. I will only speak with you." The man's lips curled into a smirk. "I can make you very happy, Matthew, I can give you the Tooth Fairy, make you an agent by the end of the year, give you fame and the knowledge that you were the one to capture this monster… But you have to give me something in return." Ivan ran his tongue over his upper lip before he continued. "But we'll get to that later… For now." Ivan leaned back and sat on the edge of his bed, folding his legs in a professional manner, as if he were in his office. "The girls, were they all natural? Was their hair dyed in any way? To use a rather crude term did the carpet match the drapes?" Ivan tilted his eyes. "Blonde hair is a fixation. He's picking his victims based off of specific physical traits. Their connection is aesthetics only, there is no day to day connection."

Matthew was silent for a long moment, listening to what Ivan had to say while sitting as still as he could. He wasn't sure what Ivan was implying by offering his help for whatever service he requested in return, and a part of Matthew didn't even wish to fancy the idea to find out. He was not of any authority to give favors. "You're correct…but that doesn't necessarily narrow the playing field to whom he would go after next, except for pretty blonde women. It isn't entirely specific."

"Tell me, cadet. What does this man do?" Ivan asked as he looked at the blonde. "Specifically. Narrow it to one word." Ivan leaned back on his bed. "Every criminal does something based off of a single urge or emotion. What does this man do?"

Closing his eyes, Matthew laughed softly and shook his head before peering back across at Ivan's face. "What exactly is it that you want me to say, Mr. Braginski? That he's a well thought out, skilled magician that chooses his victims in quite literally a science? Will you analyze me on my answer, too? This man kills innocent people, and that's all there is to it; for whatever reason he may think gives it justice."

Ivan tilted his face towards the blonde. "That sort of thinking won't get you very far in the FBI, cadet." Ivan straightened and stood, leaning towards the glass. "To catch a killer you need to think like one, if the doe could know what is going through a hunter's mind then she would doubtless survive the season." Ivan flicked his eyes to the file. "Give me the file… And go back to the FBI and tell them that I'll be on the case with you… And come back in the morning."


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings:** Cannibalism, murder, rape, hannibal references

**Notes:** THIS IS NOT A TAME AU. It is heavily based off of the three Anthony Hopkins Hannibal movies. It does not have that many references to the newer Hannibal TV series, as Matthew claims more of a Clarice Starling role with a few Will Graham traits.

* * *

Francis looked up from finishing the dishes, smiling at the sight of Matthew sitting in the living room with a copy of a case file strewn about him. Moving to sit beside the younger blonde, Francis tilted his head to the boy and stroked his hair. "And what is keeping you up tonight?"

"Work," Matthew responded with a little sigh as he slumped against the couch cushions after reaching for his cooling mug of hot coco. "I must be an uncreative idiot to not be able to easily find hidden meanings in murder case as easily as former murderers," the blonde hmphed, a barely there pout gracing his face.

Francis hummed and kissed Matthew's forehead. "You shouldn't look at such things. You'll get nightmares again." The older male tilted his head back to the file before he lifted one particular picture of a young woman with pieces of mirror placed in her eyes. "Remember when we used to go to museums… What was that one picture… This reminds me of it." The older male pursed his lips before he sighed and stood, kissing Matthew's temple. "Be sure to sleep tonight, mon chaton." Francis stood, pausing before he walked to the shelf and pulled out an enormous book of glossed pages filled with paintings. "This might help… I think the painting is in here since we bought it at that one exhibit."

"Thanks…I'll take a look…it'll probably be much easier to observe than this stuff," Matthew sighed as he slid the photo of the young woman back to where he had it placed before Francis had picked it up. Placing down his cup, Matthew tucked his bare feet under him on the couch as he drew the book onto his lap, his fingers carefully turning the glossy pages full of different paintings and photos of sculptures. Nothing looked particularly significant, until one page that stuck to the one before it caught his eye, a painting of a red devil..dragon creature standing before a beautiful woman glowing and bright.

Matthew's eyes widened and he leaned forward, lips pursing as he grasped the photo of the woman to place on the opposite page next to the painting. "The Great Red Dragon…and the Woman Clothed in Sun…," Matthew read, a finger tracing the printed title of the painting. Perhaps Mr. Braginski would find it equally as interesting as Matthew suddenly did.

Ivan tilted his head up from where he was reading the case file, a red crayon in hand from the orderlies when he had requested something that wasn't black to mark up the file. "And have you found our killer's inspiration?"

Matthew tilted his head to peer at Ivan through the glass as he set down his messenger bag that had gotten a few looks from the more well paid agents on his first day. He turned his back to the taller male before he pulled out the book of paintings and approached the glass cell, his fingers turning to the correct page before he pressed it up for Ivan to see. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong."

Ivan smiled. "Very good, Cadet…" The man held up his own fanned out collection of photos. "They are all posed the same, all natural blondes and all with similar facial features. The mirror in their eyes is placed in and twe can assume that the lights were turned on." Ivan let the pictures flutter to the ground. "The women clothed in the sun, with the red dragon looming above them prepared to destroy them and eat their young." Ivan smirked. "That, Matthew, is the key to this case."

"Yes,…but it only reveals exactly what you said. Our killer's inspiration, we already knew he targeted beautiful blonde women," Matthew sighed, clearly tired as he pulled away from the glass and closed the art book, his body moving to slump into the chair he had perched in the day before.

"This man is a creature of lust and power, very much like the Great Red Dragon… But you are looking for the dragon and not for the women clothed in the sun." Ivan slid one particular picture through the slot to Matthew. "She was survived by a son, was she not?" The older male tilted his head. "Miss Alice Burkley is the key to this." Ivan leaned against the glass. "Quid Pro Quo, I've told you something, several somethings, now it's your turn."

Taking the picture, Matthew peered at it before glancing at Ivan. "…what is it exactly that you'd like, Mr. Braginski?" the blonde sighed, sitting back down with the photo in his lap.

"You don't date. You have a rather wide introvert streak that could almost be considered antisocial… Your only interactions are within your work circle, your family and… me." Ivan tilted his head to the blonde. "Why so determined to join the FBI, hmm? Cut yourself off from the world behind the safety of a badge. People feel that FBI agents have almost a right to not socially interact with others, see it as a sign of dedication… But did you know that government agents are one of the top six occupations for psychopaths?" The older male tilted his head. "Do you feel that so long as you get the bad man in jail that you aren't like me? That you wouldn't be joining me on my side of the glass wall?"

" ," Matthew sighed, standing as he folded his arms over his chest and peered at Ivan through the invisible barrier separating them. "I don't date because I don't want to, I don't feel the need to, not because I can't. Do all killers kill for reasons?"

"There is always a reason, Matthew." The older male gave an amused smile. "You just have to learn how to think like your prey to catch them…" Ivan leaned against the glass casually. "You recall my victim Mathias Kohler? He was a young student from Massachusets that had taken quite the unfortunate taste for violence. He had consistently beaten his sexual partners after a typical period of three months… Yet all of his victims were larger, stronger and older than himself." The older male tilted his head with a smirk. "He abused for a sense of control while he felt like his own life was falling apart… Our lady killer can be caught in a similar way."

"I see," Matthew hummed, turning his back to Ivan and leaning against the cell wall, his head tilted down to peer at the tip of his shoes. "You played along to understand him correctly…so you're suggesting doing the same with our "Tooth Fairy". Find me a beautiful blonde woman to play along, too, and we're golden, isn't that right, ?"

Ivan tilted his head and smirked. "Who said that we needed to go searching… Once we find out where our Tooth Fairy is originating from then we can just have you bat your eyelashes at him." Ivan leaned back on his bed and smirked. "You have very shapely hips."

" …I said beautiful woman, shapely hips I don't think will help us when shapely breasts are missing from the picture," Matthew sighed and pushed off of the glass, tilting his head to peer over his shoulder completely unamused at Ivan.

"Breasts are easy to fake.. And are you worried about actually being caught by our Red Dragon?" Ivan asked as he laced his hands behind his head and watched Matthew. "Our time is almost up, why not look a little deeper into Miss Alice."

—

Alice Burkley was a middle aged woman with long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She had lived in Marathon Florida with her son, Al. The boy had been found with a chunk missing from his arm and his mother in her bed shot in the chest and viciously raped. She had been the first victim and after the fact it almost struck the FBI silent that the other women were not treated with the same utter cruelty as Miss Burkley. She was not the only victim with a son, but very few of the other victims had any living family and so the fact had been disregarded when the women had children, either from a previous marriage or from an unexpected pregnancy.

Francis placed a rather slender and elegantly wrapped grey box in front of Matthew, smiling as he kissed the blonde's temple. "This came in the mail for you." He stated simply before going to the kitchen to finish dinner.

Looking up from the case files Matthew had been peeling over for the past few hours after coming home from work, he blinked at the box, before turning his puzzled look towards the other blonde disappearing into the kitchen. "Me? But…I didn't order anything," he sighed softly, standing and stretching a little, figuring this was a good excuse as ever to take a break and think about something else for a few moments.

Slipping into his room, Matthew settled on the edge of his bed to carefully remove the wrapping to take the top off of the box. A frown settled onto his features (more so than the obvious bright pink blush) as he peered at an old fashioned pair of stockings, panties and garter, delicately folded in soft violet tissue; and underneath was a painting of a pale figure draped dramatically over what looked like a bed, but what was most startling was the figure looked exactly like him.

In fact, Matthew was quite certain it was him.

Turning the box over and gently dumping out the contents, Matthew searched for a name, a company, anything, that would tell him at least something about who could've sent him these things, because he certainly would never get them himself.

Quite a picture you would make. The careful and elaborate handwriting read, a faint scent of some sort of perfume clinging to the paper. It was a familiar scent, something that was so simple and straightforward but evaded placement or memory.

Matthew frowned softly, his hold on the picture light enough that it simply fluttered from his fingers back into the box as he carefully set the items back inside as well. It only mildly (surprisingly) disturbed him. He decided enough was enough for the night and he'd just go to sleep and think of what the scent from the paper reminded him of; but nothing ever did come to mind. However, after showering the next morning, Matthew absolutely couldn't resist slipping on the delicate panties in place of his usual underwear, his body twisting to catch sight of himself on the mirror above his dresser.

He liked them, a lot, and his eyes lingered on himself more than he could ever be comfortable with.

Besides, they'd be his little secret to wear underneath his clothes at work that day, though, Matthew thought as he entered the prison and started on his way towards where Ivan was kept, he assumed Ivan would find it absolutely hilarious if he knew.


	3. Chapter 3

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings:** Cannibalism, murder, rape, hannibal references

**Notes:** THIS IS NOT A TAME AU. It is heavily based off of the three Anthony Hopkins Hannibal movies. It does not have that many references to the newer Hannibal TV series, as Matthew claims more of a Clarice Starling role with a few Will Graham traits.

* * *

Ivan made no indication that anything was different. He asked after further reports in the Alice situation and when he had pointed out specific details that pointed to how her death was more personal it was in an almost bored tone he served much more interested in focusing on Matthew. "You've been shifting all afternoon? Uncomfortable?" His eyes were lidded and his smooth voice low as he watched Matthew with that same predatory stare that said that he wanted to sink his teeth in Matthew.

Brushing a curl out of his face, Matthew smile politely and shook his head. "Not at all, a little cold, but I'm fine," the blonde answered, confident and smooth as he peered away from the look on Ivan's face, the sheer weight of it sending a well placed shiver up his spine.

Ivan smirked as he gently trailed his fingers over Matthew's shape in the glass. "You keep recrossing your legs…" He murmured, his eyes trailing over the long limbs slowly before his tongue dragged over his upper lip in his strange twitch. "Not that I mind." The older male sighed out a hum. "Well, if that's all, then you can go back to Kirkland… Oh, and please tell Barney at the front that I'd like a call with my lawyer later on? He doesn't come down until six in the evening and I would like for him to know a bit beforehand."

Some odd hours later and Ivan is sitting in his cell with the private phone line. He picks up and his lawyer is on the phone, greasy man as he is, echoing an inquiring "hello?" into the line. Ivan presses the catch to hang up and then starts to use the same catch to dial out the number to Matthew's home, which he had gotten the same way he had received his address, through his favourite little trick.

"Hello?" Francis asked as he answered the phone.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Lecter, one of Matthew's co-workers. I got some interesting results from the case we're working on and was hoping to catch him before he got too occupied with his work at home."

"Oh, of course!" Francis smiled. "One moment and I'll give it to him!" The Frenchman walked into the blonde's bedroom, knocking on the door before he opened it and held out the phone. "A Doctor helping you on the case, mon chaton. he said he has new information to share."

"Doctor?" Matthew looked up from walking out of his bedroom's conjoined bathroom, a hand lowering a towel that he had been using to scrub at damp curls

There wasn't a doctor helping him…the only doctor he knew was…

But that was impossible.

Taking the phone and waiting until Francis left the room, Matthew settled on the edge of his bed and pressed the phone to his ear, listening to the silence on the other end for a moment.

"I can report you for this, …," Matthew nearly whispered, his eyes glancing at the closed door of his bedroom, then the still curtains covering the window near his bed.

"Oh but you wouldn't do that." Ivan purred with a grin, sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees. "You would have hung up the moment you realized who it was and called Doctor Chilton." The older male tilted his head with a smirk. "Besides, I went through an awful lot of work to get you on here… And I am a doctor helping you on a case. Now," Ivan smirked. "Quid Pro Quo, Cadet. Did you enjoy that little gift I sent you? I do hope that everything fit."

"That was you?" Matthew asked, eyes widening as he shifted to tig the towel around his cooling body. " why did you do that?" The blonde was puzzled and a little disturbed…mostly at that he didn't mind so much whom they were from.

"Yes, it was."

"Why?" Matthew asked softly, teeth biting his bottom lip, as he held his breath in worry..over what he wasn't sure.

"I thought that they would suit you… I also have a weakness for stockings with seams." The older male chuckled, honestly answering the question. "You have quite the lovely figure beneath your baggy clothes."

"You can't possibly be able to tell that through my baggy clothes, Ivan…." Matthew breathed, shifting to lean back against the wall beside the bed. "You're cruel."

"Hmm, I can tell quite a few things when the only interesting thing to look at all day is you. I'm quite observant when I want to be." Ivan smirked. "And I know I'm cruel. You have to be specific, my dear."

"…you didn't have to…truly," Matthew sighed as he shifted to lay on his back, his eyes lifting to peer at the ceiling. "Thank you.."

"You should have seen the fuck me heels I was looking at." Ivan teased as he smirked and leaned against his wall. "Are you wearing them now? You were at least wearing the panties earlier."

"Nothing," Matthew mumbled softly before he caught himself and sat up, running a hand through damp curls as he collected himself. "I …well…you caught me after a shower and I..," Matthew swallowed . "Forget I said something."

Ivan smirked. "Well, well… Quite an ensemble then… Tell me, Matthew, do you smell nice? I can always smell your food that you've eaten but you don't smell more than that or natural musk to me… I'd think you'd have some sort of sweet strawberry shampoo in your shower…"

"Roses actually," Matthew mumbled softly before he shifted to lay on his side. "And mint…I really like mint. But that's the body wash…my shampoo is strawberry," he admitted quietly, ducking his head.

"Mmm, quite the delicious little dessert you must smell like…" Ivan's voice was a rumbling purr that could almost be felt through the phone line. "I bet you taste even better… What I wouldn't give to have my mouth on your thighs."

"Just my thighs?" Matthew asked softly before he could stop himself. He shuddered lightly as he curled his legs up and brushed his nose and lips to the phone.

"Not just your thighs, no… I'd probably want to savour every inch of you." Ivan shifted and smirked. "I'd start with your tongue, just suck it into my mouth for a but… And then mouthe at your cheeks… Then your neck… I'd leave dark bruises all over that deliciously pale skin of yours, staring at your neck and going down."

"I can't tell if you're coming onto me…or sizing me up like a meal," Matthew mumbled, shifting onto hisback, his knees raising and the towel tumbling down his thighs.

"Mmmm, why not both?" Ivan teased. "Of course it would be tragic for me to be denied your company so why not settle for coming on?" Ivan palmed at himself through his pants before his voice lowered. "Are you touching yourself imagining me sinking my teeth onto you? Imagining my mouth licking at those drops of water your towel missed?"

"Absolutety…absolutely not," Matthew breathed, a hand trailing down his stomach to bat the towel away from his thighs, his breath hitching in his throat. "You said it…yourself. I'm a lonely person Ivan, right?" He mumbled, his fingers trailing over his inner thighs.

"Oh but you wouldn't want that all the time, would you?" Ivan asked with a smirk. "Though I can see the appeal in a safe fantasy, something that you feel would never ready come true… Because aren't I safe in me little cell, and once this investigation is over with you'd never have to see me again, wouldn't you? You could shamelessly imagine my mouth on you, my fingers in you, you could think about being desired and lusted after and never feel an obligation to act… But wouldn't reality feel so much better than a fantasy?"

"Ivan….do you…would you think I'm hopeless if I said I didn't want to forget about you…?" Matthew whispered softly, his fingers trailing over his length , causing his eyes to screw shut, and his lips to part in a little whimper.

Ivan smirked and wished he could drag his mouth over the soft lips of the blonde, could breathe heat into him and make him shiver with want and need. "Not at all… I don't want you to forget me either…" The older male whispered, the sound so low it was almost a growl as he undid his own pants and palmed at his length, his grip tight as he imagined pumping his hips into the blonde. "I know that I won't forget you, Matthew…"

"For what reasons do you not…want to forget me?" Matthew whispered, a finger sliding into his entrance, making him shudder and whimper Ivan's name.

"For many reasons…" Ivan growled. "The first of which is because you were interesting… I don't want to forget how sharp you were even if you do need a nudge every so often… I don't want to forget the way you look or speak, or whatever snatches of your scent I can catch… I don't want to forget this moment, with the sounds of you pleasuring yourself and your breathing…" Ivan clenched his hand around his length and let out another low growl of a noise. "But most of all I will remember just how much I want to fuck you into the ground until all you can remember is my name."

Matthew was quiet for a long moment, body trembling as he added finger after finger into himself, eyes closed and lips parted as he breathed Ivan's name into the receiver before he turned his mouth away to bury his nose into his pillow. He was full of desire, want, need…but also disgusted with himself. Hateful of himself. There was no point to this…no resolution and answer. He fell into Ivan's seductive web and he didn't know if he wanted to find his way out. Even though he knew he should.

All it was going to give him were endless nights of pining loneliness, not even being able to fully imagine Ivan's hands.

Ivan purred at the noises, the sound of his voice, amplified by the speaker. His hand gave a rough squeeze and he groaned lowly, keeping his noises to a minimum knowing that the orderlies would be coming over if anything too obscene could be heard down the hall. He lapped the liquid from his fingers, the bland but slightly bitter taste unsatisfying but he could imagine it was Matthew's and it made it that much better to swallow.

"I want to hear you come, Matthew." Ivan growled with a smirk. "Come for me."

Matthew bit his lip and his hips arched , his fingers flying until he came hard with a loud little whimper. His face flushed deeply and his eyes screwed shut, eyes blinking open again to peer at the ceiling with blurry eyes. What in the Hell did he just do?

Ivan smirked. "Very good… You sounded exquisite…" Ivan pressed a soft kiss to the mouthpiece of the phone. "I look forward to seeing it in person one day." And with that the line went dead as Ivan hung up, tucking himself away and waiting for the phone to be taken away.

Matthew listened to the silence on the other end of the phone for a while , listening to the dial tone until he mustered the energy to move to hang it up. The blonde stood and pulled on long sleeved pajamas before crawling into bed.

He didn't sleep well that night, if at all.


	4. Chapter 4

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings:** Cannibalism, murder, rape, hannibal references

**Notes:** THIS IS NOT A TAME AU. It is heavily based off of the three Anthony Hopkins Hannibal movies. It does not have that many references to the newer Hannibal TV series, as Matthew claims more of a Clarice Starling role with a few Will Graham traits.

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The next morning Ivan was in what could loosely be called a gym, with a red painted oval track on the concrete floor and the man walking with his hands cuffed behind his back and attached to a length of metal cable to a pulley rig at the ceiling. He clanked and rattled as he moved in his endless circle, tilting his head when Matthew was led into the room as well, the orderlies and guards leaving the blonde to his own devices, despite the fact that there was a sniper on the outside of a window near the ceiling. He'd have to shoot through the glass to get to Ivan should the man attack and by then Matthew might be dead.

"I'm given half an hour a week in this cage, so I'll get straight to the point." Ivan continued to walk. "Our Red Dragon knew miss Alice, was very close to her in more ways than one. The extra brutality to Al might indicate that he felt that the child was the reason behind his perceived rejection." Ivan tilted his head to watch Matthew as he moved, continuing his walk. "Look for any relationships that Alice had that had little Al connecting her with others, daycare, school teachers or even neighbors who agreed to watch him."

Ivan paused before he smirked down at the blonde, knowing and frightfully intent as his eyes fixed on Matthew. "You sounded quite lovely last night, Matthew. I look forward to a face to face performance someday."

Glaring, Matthew tilted his head away from Ivan, a firm frown on his lips. "Go to Hell," the blonde murmured before he moved away from Ivan, his hands dropping a huge pack of papers and folders on a table beside a tall cooler of water.

"If you think I'm that stupid that I can't even think to look up relatives, coworkers, friends, what have you of Miss Berkley's…," Matthew sighed, looking in no mood to deal with Ivan's smart ass comments that day. In fact, the blonde looked like he hadn't slept at all, his hair pulled back in as tight of a bun as he could manage and his clothes dark colored to help offset the dark circles under his eyes.

"Well, honestly I don't know what to think of you. You were such a bright and eager young thing when you were younger." Ivan moved to pick up the folders. "What was that girl's name? Amy? The one found with her genitals removed then sewn shut?" The man's violet eyes flicked to the boy, an eyebrow arched slightly as he watched the blonde in the same way a predator might watch a field mouse. "You saw right to the heart of the case, solved the crime from a glance, and yet here you are fumbling like a six year old at algebra. You're better than all that, Matthew and I want to know why." The older male lunged forward, his face inches from Matthew's, enough to rattle the chains holding him as he peered down at the blonde. "Were the thoughts of scary people too much to handle for you? If so then why go into the FBI anyway?"

Matthew stiffened and he looked for all the world like he wanted to sucker punch Ivan or at least throw something at the taller male. "You know what, Ivan? If you think I'm that stupid…that dull..," the word was spat out of Matthew's mouth…as if it were something he had heard more than once and resented it like it was poison. "I'm not scared or overwhelmed…," he murmured, reaching to yank the papers back. "Go finish your stupid laps befo-" the blonde paused, his head tilting up quickly to peer at Ivan's face.

"How the hell do you know about Amy?"

Ivan raised an eyebrow at the blonde. "It was quite some time ago, wasn't it… You were what…. Eight? Ten? You were very young." The man's eye's fixed onto Matthew's, not even allowing the blue set to glance towards the sniper as Ivan bent closer. "She was a very pretty girl wasn't she? You said that she had an obsessive family member, someone with perhaps incestuous intent… Why did they remove her genitals again? You knew right away even as the private detectives and police stumbled around the question… You told me yourself, in that little voice of yours that was so quiet."

"How could I have possibly told you? I've never met you before now and…," the blonde trailed off, color all but draining from his face.

"You…you were the man….the man in the crowd that asked me what I thought….," Matthew looked mortified as he shook his head, his fingers gripping even tighter to the papers and folders in his hand, knuckles white.

"Amy died because her father suspected she had sex and she wasn't married….he removed her genitals then sewed her up again…," Matthew slowly shook his head, as if the story itself brought some sort of personal hurt to him. The blonde hadn't really known Amy…but they did live in the same neighborhood and he remembered her dark hair and her large dog that she'd walk around the block with. It was a sad case, one that shocked the town and the community down to its core.

But what shocked Matthew the most wasn't the sudden thought of Amy being brought up, but of the fact that Ivan had seen him before, known him even for the most fleeting of moments.

Ivan tilted his head towards the blonde. "I had friends in the neighbourhood… They talked about you once, how you were very sweet and polite but you seemed a little bit… Off. And then I saw you looking at the murder and I knew…" The man shifted slightly and smirked. "You had the look of someone who understood every twisted thought that went through a killer's mind."

"It was an observation," Matthew whispered harshly, eyebrows knit on his forehead as he glared up at Ivan. "….anyone with half a brain could have figured it out." He was bothered by what Ivan had said about him…an off child. Matthew didn't have many friends growing up, in fact he found most people his age dull and loud and would have much preferred staying home with his father, doing puzzles and learning to cook. There was nothing wrong with that; at least that's what Matthew always told himself.

"Really? Then why did the man walk free and the boyfriend was sentenced to death?" Ivan asked with a raised eyebrow. "What was it that suppressed that talent? Certainly not trying to fit in, no, no… You were too bright for that, too sharp." The man moved to finish his loop of the red track. "Was it the FBI? All those people telling you to think like this, file paperwork like that, interrogate this way instead of your way? You have a gift for seeing things the way that I or our Red Dragon might see things… Yet you repress it so." Ivan stopped in front of Matthew again, reaching out to gently take the file from Matthew, pulling out the first picture. "Well? What do you see?"

Matthew was silent as he allowed his eyes to flicker to the photo, his thoughts and intellect starting to whir and think and observe based on sight alone before the blonde shook his head, the ideas silenced in favor of the right way to do things, the book way. "I haven't had time to…," the blonde bit his lip before glaring at Ivan. He felt so tired…

"Stop treating me like a case of yours, Doctor."

"You aren't my case, this is your case, you know what he's doing, don't you? You see it but you're so stubborn you keep disregarding what you know for what you think you should know." Ivan held up Alice, giving Matthew a look as he did so. "You know why she's the key to it, now think long and hard about that."

Shaking his head, Matthew refused to give in to Ivan. "My photo," the blonde murmured, his voice on the edge of disheartened as he held out his hand to receive the file back from Ivan so he could stick it back into the folder.

Ivan held out the picture, holding it up to sheild their faces as he leaned closer to the blonde. "What was it that made you think that it was Amy's father that killed her? How did you know?"

"Because I knew!" Matthew whispered harshly, frustrated and fed up. "I don't know how I knew…but I knew! I knew her father watched her in a way no father should their daughter…I knew she was getting ready to go off to college and her father couldn't admit to himself that his little girl was becoming a woman that thought the boys her age in the neighborhood were cute…they drove fast cars, her father had the same one since the sixties…she stopped needing rides, learned to drive, started to wear make up and missed church on Sunday's…" the blonde swallowed as he tilted his body back from Ivan's. "…she was growing up and the last straw was that night her boyfriend dropped her off and gave her a kiss on her doorstep…her father was watching from the upstairs window, the one across the street from mine."

Ivan smirked and tilted his head to whisper against the blonde's jaw. "Very good." He pressed a barely there brush of lips against the skin before he pulled back. "Now what can you tell me about Alice tomorrow?" And with that the doors opened and the orderlies came in to collect Ivan, ushering Matthew away as they led the taller male from the room.

Matthew watched Ivan disappear down the hall opposite from his own before he sighed and moved to leave for the day. He was exhausted, now more mentally so than ever, and he really just wanted to throw the papers in his hands to the wind and sleep for a good decade.

Coming home, Matthew dropped the files onto the kitchen table, his head tilting to peer at what his Papa had added to the huge jigsaw he had been working on for the past week. "Papa?" Matthew called softly, not immediately seeing the blonde man in the kitchen or living room. Shrugging a little, the blonde shrugged out of his jacket and shoes before going to pull on something much softer and easier to think in.

Francis smiled as he tilted his head to the blonde. He had the glazed sort of expression that came with freshly taken Loxapine. He moved fluidly through the kitchen to hug his son and kiss his temple. "Yes, Matthew?" The man asked as he rested his cheek against the blonde's temple, enjoying the warmth of his son close to his chest.

"Papa…?" Matthew started softly, the weight of his father's body against his own comforting, normal. "Do you think I'm…stupid? Stubborn? Boring?" the blonde asked, genuine worry over what Ivan had said earlier sticking in his mind.

"My son? Stupid or boring?" Francis fussed at the blonde, cupping his cheeks gently to press their noses together. "You are anything but those two things. Stubborn however, you are." The older male moved to the living room where there was a basket of freshly folded laundry. Pulling out the younger male's favourite beige sweater he held it out to Matthew along with some plaid white and beige sleep pants. "Go change, little one, and we can talk."

Matthew smiled a little as he intercepted the clothes and pressed his nose to the soft, clean scent. "Thanks, Papa," Matthew smiled tiredly before he leaned to kiss his father's cheek as he walked by to go into his room to change. Shuffling out of his room, changed and barefoot, curls released from the tight bun from earlier, Matthew moved into the kitchen to make tea before sinking into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, his finger moving around a puzzle piece idly.

Francis insinuated himself into his own chair, humming softly as he peered at the younger blonde. "So what did you two talk about today?"

Sighing, Matthew peered slowly up at his father, his eyes watching similar blue ones, though his lacked that distinct shine. "Do you remember Amy?"

Francis hummed. "Father killed her, police arrested the boyfriend. They didn't check the father's basement for a mason jar with Amy's genitals…" The blonde man took a sip from his tea, his slightly glazed look turning to Matthew's face. He seemed to see both the blonde and then see through him, beyond him, into some strange world that only Francis could see. "He talked to you about Amy?"

"Do you ever remember me telling you about the man? The man the day that Amy was discovered…the man I called a ghost or a figment of my imagination?" Matthew asked, his head tilting to peer at his father's face before down at the table. "He remembers me….and he thinks I'm some half self of who I used to be at eight years old…," the blonde's eyes flickered up to his parents', eyebrows gently knit in concern. "Do you really think that, Papa? A half self…"

Francis hummed, looking at Matthew more solidly. There was a spark of analysis in his eyes before he spoke up. "You know that I'm proud of you, Matthew. You've done so much at such a young age. You're so bright, wonderfully so… But you spend so much time pretending to be like everyone else… Pretending to be normal and trying to think the same way that they do…" The older male's lips pulled into a soft smile. "I think that he's saying it in a much harsher way, but I do think that you've tried to cover up your own gift… Tried to dull yourself down for the sake of a grade and the approval of someone who knows nothing about what he's talking about."

"But Papa," Matthew started, his hands releasing the hold he had on his tea cup. "They told me my way of thinking is wrong…borderline disturbing to them…it's…it's frustrating to me…," the blonde sighed, his voice softening as he peered somewhere off beyond the curve of his father's shoulder. "…I sometimes have it but make myself forget and start over again because the way I come to conclusions….if I were to explain it, they'd think I was the killer and not someone else…that bothers me."

"Sometimes it takes a disturbed mind to hunt down another." Francis hummed gently, reaching out to stroke at Matthew's cheek. "Why don't we have dinner… And then we can look at your case file together? We can talk about it and find a way to rationalize it in a way that normal people will take well." The man smiled softly at his son. "I'm very proud of you no matter what, Matthew."

"At least I have you to say that, Papa," Matthew smiled a little, his feet hooking at the ankles as he watched his father stand up. He could still hear Ivan's voice in his head, and that look on his face which Matthew would consider worse of all. Sighing, the younger blonde stood to help with dinner which they ate together in relatively pleasant silence with occasional small talk.

Dinner turned out to be crepes stuffed with cream and nutella and fruit, followed by glasses of milk and then a couple of cups of coffee. The entirety of the case file was spread out upon the coffee table of the living room, atop a half-finished Thomas Kinkade puzzle, pictures and highlighted copies of reports and various data gathered from different sources.

"Alice Burkley, your friend said that she was the key." Francis hummed. "We can already spot the differences. Hers was the only son attacked as well, she was more brutally handled… The killer was… Indifferent to the other girls." Francis hummed as he peered over Alice's face, or what was left of the mutilated visage. "She didn't have the mirrors in her eyes until post mortem? Why? All the other girls had mirror in their eyes from the beginning."

"I guess he had no reason to want to see his own face after killing her," Matthew shrugged softly, his feet tucked under his body as he flipped through his collection of relatives and coworkers of Miss Burkley's. Fingers pausing over a particular picture, Matthew frowned a little and tugged one closer to him, his eyes sweeping over familiar features, similar eyes and hair…

"It's almost like looking in a mirror, isn't it?" the blonde murmured, placing down a photograph of Alice's brother according to the little note on the bottom of the page, his head tilting to peer at his father's face.

Francis nodded and hummed. "Alonzo Burkley… Twins." Francis' eyes flicked between the two. "Do we have anything on him? Any history of mental illness? Schizophrenia?"

Sighing, Matthew filtered through what papers he had to find what information they had gathered on the Burkley family. There wasn't much about Alonzo, a few speeding tickets, a long list of jobs that the man hadn't been able to keep much longer than a month at most, and a section specifically for a history of mental problems first recorded in the second grade. Matthew passed the sheet to his father before placing the report from Alonzo's interrogation in his lap.

"All it says here is that he cried when police brought him in…said his sister was an angel and shouldn't have died…," the blonde bit his lip in thought, his fingers curling into little fists as he peered over the information again.

"What do you see?" Francis asked gently, waiting patiently for Matthew to speak his mind. He could see the connection, could see something that was just out of sight. "Why would Ivan bring up Amy with this case? There's something similar here."

"I don't…," Matthew shook his head, his teeth biting at his lower lip as he reached up to place Alonzo's photograph next to Alice's. He was afraid…the authorities and investigators hadn't seen what Matthew saw that day…and if this was similar.

"There's no parents…no other family listed but him…," Matthew mumbled, fear clenching his chest. "All the women after Alice…blonde just like her..,"

"Look at the face shape." Francis murmured. "The eye colours… But he puts mirrors in their eyes… Why would he do that to them but not to his sister?"

Matthew's head lifted to peer at his father's face. No one had outright said that Alonzo could be the one…but Francis had said what Matthew had been silently thinking. The blonde's eyes traced similar features on Francis' face, they had the same blue eyes, the same heart shaped features, similar noses and lips…if they wanted to, they could pass as siblings of one another…

"…because she looks like him….and he doesn't need a mirror to see himself in Alice."

"If he did kill her then why?" Francis asked gently, coaxing the thoughts forward with questions. "Ivan mentioned Amy. From what you've told me Ivan doesn't mention things that aren't important. The Red Dragon, Amy, Alice and her son… What are the similarities and the connections?"

"Papa…," Matthew shook his head, almost worried to think like that…almost terrified to fall off the strict path of rules and regulations. Biting his bottom lip, Matthew wanted to say he didn't know…but the worst part was he did. And he felt like he had quietly known all along.

"…he loved her..like Amy's father loved Amy…in a way no one should love a relative…," the younger blonde murmured, chest rising and falling in quick little breaths. He was terrified…

"The Red Dragon looms above the Woman clothed in the sun, ready to devour the child she's about to give birth to." Francis reached over for a picture of Alice's cadaver. "She has bite marks on her genitals. And then little Al had a chunk nearly removed from his arm."

"But why would…why would he want to hurt Al is the question," Matthew murmured softly, his finger tracing over the corner of one of the pictures of the woman's house taken the same day as the cadaver shots. "…unless he resented Al like Amy's father resented her age..," the blonde sighed, his head tilting as he drew one of the photo's closer to him. It was pretty insignificant, showing the pattern of blood splatter on the wall beside the bed but what had caught Matthew's eye was a vanity clearly seen on the right hand side. The makeup and various beauty products on top were miscued, tubes of lipstick with their caps missing and so forth…but in the mirror's reflection was a familiar image that he slid closer towards Francis.

"…is that the painting?"

Francis narrowed his eyes before he gently took Matthew's glasses, using them to carefully magnify the image before he nodded, handing Matthew back his glasses. "It's the image, a copy of the Blake painting."

Francis paused for a long moment before he reached out for the stack of photos, pulling out one of Al's tearstained and bruised face, flipping it over for another picture tacked to the back, one of Alice and Alonzo both flanking little Al, the boy grinning happily up at the camera. "Awful striking resemblance, isn't it?" The older male murmured. "He looks just like his mother… And his uncle… There's not a single feature that could be from another man…" The older male held out the picture. "The nose, eyes, mouth, face shape, hair…. Everything."

"You don't think that…?" Matthew let the question hang in the air even as his eyes swept over the image of what was assumed to be mother, uncle and child. "But why hurt him if…," the younger blonde bit his lip, his fingertips lightly tracing the bottom rims of his glasses. "…I need a birth record for him…see who his father is."

"Is Quantico a twenty-four hour operation?"

"The database on the computers sure are," Matthew murmured before he tilted his head to peer at his father as he stood. "Do you mind if I go out for an hour or so, Papa?"

Francis straightened and gathered up the files. "I'll drive you." The older male smiled gently. "This is the most interesting puzzle I've had in a while."

Matthew smiled and relaxed a little as he bent to place a kiss to his father's cheek. "Thank you, Papa…you don't know how much that means to me," the blonde smiled before going to change into something more appropriate, though he doubted anyone would particularly notice.

It was a good hour's drive to Quantico and when Francis parked the car he gathered up the file into his own arms. "Lead the way." He murmured with a smile as he followed his son into the building and through the hallways to the computer archives.

The halls weren't exactly empty, but with that being said, no one bothered anyone else and the archives were relatively dead. Settling into a pair of computer stations, Matthew typed in his access information before he brought up the search engine that could find him relatively everything he needed.

It took some digging but soon they had found the casefile and every single scrap of information that could possibly relate to it. "Father, unknown." Francis frowns and sighed, looking of the information. "It says that Alonzo was present during the birth but that he wasn't claimed to be the father… An incest baby, I suppose it would be more respectable for Alice to claim ignorance."

"They look like a set of clones," Matthew murmured softly, his eyes tilting down toward the family photo that rested on the keyboard between his elbows. "…so he loved his sister…he loved her so much they had sex and had a baby that in all respects looked just like him…," the blonde sighed, his fist cradling his cheek. "..she wasn't a bad mother either, Al was in the boy scouts and it said here she was a troupe leader…bake sales, school plays where she donated…." Matthew straightened softly, blinking as he tilted his head to peer at Francis.

"He was jealous."

"Of a child that looked like him that his sister loved more." Francis tapped a finger on the family photograph. "He said his sister was an angel… What if he considered her a guardian angel." The man shuffled through the papers. "Mirrors in the eyes." The reflection of the camera lens in the eyes of the first victim after Alice. "So that he could see his sister's face and smile…" The man tapped his fingers on the image. "He wanted her approval of the things he was doing."

"What are you doing?" A voice called and the two that were hunched over the computer monitor turned to see Alfred Jones, one of the workers from Legal, giving the two a suspicious look. "It's late. Why are you here?"

Matthew closed out the screen before bringing up another window quickly, his company email taking its place as he fixed Alfred with a look. "Checking email…there's no rule that says I can't be here late, Alfred," Matthew sighed, giving his father a look as he pushed the papers together that they had pulled out in their research. He had a few things on the printer, but he wouldn't be able to get them until Alfred left.

Alfred raised an eyebrow at the blonde. "A bit far out of your way to check email, isn't it?"

"No, I was just coming to pick Matthew up." Francis put in, giving the man an arched eyebrow. "He invited me in while he finished up some things."

Alfred hummed and frowned before he nodded and left. "Don't do anything stupid, Matthew, Kirkland is already getting impatient with your lead from the nut house."

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps you should go concern yourself with someone else, Alfred. I'm not that one that should worry about doing something stupid," the blonde sighed as he stood, his files in hand as he signed out of his information and moved to gather what he had printed. He shot a look to his father and the two left, Matthew's head tilting over his shoulder to peer at Alfred before the door swung shut. Jones was nosy… and Matthew didn't like him at all.

"We need confirmation." Francis murmured as he looked at the blonde. "Do you think flashing your badge would get you a private audience with your friend in the asylum?"

"Now?" Matthew asked softly, his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. "I'm not sure if they'd let me in so late but…I could try." Matthew supplied, tilting his head to give his father a little smile.

They started the car and drove off, Francis turning off a news report about a missing person and flicking on the CD player to play some form of music that was jaunty and upbeat. The drive was another hour and when they arrived Francis followed Matthew once more, though only Matthew was allowed to the hall to access Ivan's cell. There was a glow of a television at the end of the hallway, right in front of Ivan's glass wall, the volume turned down to barely perceptible levels.

"Did you figure it out?" Ivan asked from his position sitting on the floor, staring at the screen of the television with his face cast in darkness.

"Did you?" Matthew countered softly as he sighed and moved to crouch in front of the glass, his eyes softening as he peered at the older male. "I hate that you sound like you've practically expected me to run in at anytime declaring my aha moment…"

"You're a smart young man." Ivan's lips curved into a smirk. "I diagnosed Alonzo when he was a bit younger. When the case of Alice Burkley's untimely demise was still a fresh wound. He fled town right after he was declared innocent and made sure to keep beneath the radar… But then the first girl showed up, didn't she? How could I not recognize her? Not recognize him seeing his sister in her mirrored eyes?" Ivan straightened slightly and moved to walk over to Matthew, crouching on the other side of the glass. "Well? How do you plan to catch him now?"

"The only way anyone else can figure how to….a beautiful blonde," Matthew murmured softly, his eyes trained on Ivan's face before he shifted a hand up to press a few fingertips to the glass. "…considering as of tonight, it's still his style, isn't it?"

"It is… But Alonzo isn't one to change his style." Ivan's eyes fixed on Matthew's before he turned his gaze to the television screen. "I know where you can start, to look for him, though."

The reporter on the television sat beside a superimposed image of a young woman, the daughter of the governer Robert Martins, her blonde hair poker straight and her eyes wide and green, she had a fetching smile and the same oval shape faced as every other victim of the Red Dragon previously. "She's been missing for a day and police say that they have not gotten any reports of an abuduction for ransom. It is unclear as to what ends the kidnapping of Ruth Martins is hoped to achieve but for the time being, Robert Martins has this to say."

The governer appeared on screen, eyes rimmed with red and dark luggage showing how little he had slept in the past day. He was an aged man and when he spoke his voice wavered. He talked about his daughter, about how beloved and sweet and gentle she was, how she had learned ballet when she was younger and wanted to be a dentist now. He spoke about her hobbies and her favourite subjects in school, making sure to repeat the name Ruth over and over again.

Ivan clicked his tongue at the screen, pulling a hiss in through his teeth. "If he sees her as a person it becomes harder to kill her… I wonder how long he'd be willing to play house with this one."

Matthew tilted his head back to look at Ivan, a thoughtful look on his face as he nibbled at his lower lip. "You actually think she's still alive?"

The man raised an eyebrow and nodded to the case file discarded beside the blonde. "Check the dates where they're listed as missing and compare it to the dates that they're found… My estimant is that Ruth Martins has about three days of playing house and trying to reason with Alonzo before she either makes a mistake, says the wrong thing or Alonzo feels too paranoid to keep her anymore." The man tapped his fingers on the glass. "Alonzo loved his sister very much…. These fantasies, these reincarnations of his? He's reliving those times when she would take care of just him in their home… That's why the girls are always found in a house. That's why they're missing before they're dead. Alonzo wants his twin back."

The blonde was silent for a moment, the pad of his thumb pressing to his lips. Matthew slowly shook his head, a closed mouth, sad smile crossing his features. "They'll never find her in time…they're too stupid," he murmured and sighed before pulling the file pack onto his lap.

"They just don't think like he does." Ivan pressed his hand to the glass before he spoke up again. "If you helped me out I could go find him for you."

Raising his head, Matthew fixed Ivan with a look before smiling and shaking his head. "I'll never be able to pull that off, Ivan. These people won't even listen to me…I get looked at suspiciously for using the archives like it's something odd to see me do,.."

"You could say that I threatened you?" Ivan smirked. "You forgot that you weren't supposed to slip me a pen? I'm sure that Barney would lend a sympathetic ear if you asked him to let me out for a few moments to speak in private, he knows that I've been very good and that I'm too fond of you to hurt you."

"Is that your way of saying you're fond of me or is it just another manipulative thing to say to get me to do what you want?" Matthew asked, his head tilting as he regarded Ivan before slowly starting to stand, a sigh on his mouth. "I'll see what I can do, Ivan…I'm going to have to speak to Kirkland.."

Ivan watched Matthew, standing slowly to peer down at the smaller male, his fingers gently tapping at the smooth material of the glass between them. "A question, Matthew, before you go… If you knew that I was fond of you…. Would you stand with me on my side of the glass and still trust me not to kill you?"

"….just fond of me?" Matthew asked softly, his hand reaching up to press to the glass to touch Ivan's. "I don't know if I could risk that just for fondness…." the blonde flicked his eyes up to Ivan's face before he slowly pulled his hand away.

Ivan arched an eyebrow. "You will tell me how that conversation with Kirkland goes, won't you, cadet?"


	5. Chapter 5

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings:** Cannibalism, murder, rape, hannibal references

**Notes:** THIS IS NOT A TAME AU. It is heavily based off of the three Anthony Hopkins Hannibal movies. It does not have that many references to the newer Hannibal TV series, as Matthew claims more of a Clarice Starling role with a few Will Graham traits.

* * *

Arthur sat at his desk, staring at the file before him before he tilted his eyes to Matthew, sighing as he rubbed his eyes. "Alright… One more time, slowly, explain this to me."

Matthew bit his lip as he straightened in his chair, his eyes sweeping over the papers on Arthur's desk before he sighed and slowly started to explain again. "…do you still not understand?"

"You think that Alonzo Burkley is killing because he thinks his dead sister approves of this? You think that he's playing house with them and that's why it takes four days to find the bodies?" Arthur frowned slightly. "Matthew, you've taken this case by the horns. I admire that in a cadet, but there's no evidence to prove anything you're saying. Alonzo was cleared. He was pretty much mentally incapacitated after his sister's death. He could hardly care for himself, much less his nephew."

"But that automatically takes him off the radar? Really? Have you even done any searches for him recently? Where does he live? Work?" Matthew shifted, his hands balling into fists on his thighs. He didn't like that he was being shot down…talked to like he was stupid…

"Matthew, Alonzo Burkley has been declared dead a good year ago." Arthur snapped. "His face was too mutilated but his nephew was able to identify a particular tattoo the man had." Arthur frowned. "He's been kept as a suspect, granted, but that doesn't mean that he's been able to commit these murders.

"A mutilated face and a matching tattoo? Really?"Matthew rose an eyebrow, a cool glare passing over his face. "That's the best excuse you have to prove that it was him?"

Arthur sighed. "You say the man was obsessed with the Red Dragon from the Blake paintings?" The man rifled through a stack of papers on his rather unorganized desk before finding one folder in particular. he slid the autopsy report out and revealed the back of the corpse. "I doubt there's many people who get this complex of a tattoo of the Red Dragon."

"But you don't know that! Are there any records that say that he got this tattoo?" Matthew asked, clearly frustrated as he shook his head. "Another girl is going to die because we're sitting here running in circles. What other leads do we have to go on?"

"Ones that have evidence and aren't saying that a dead man is committing murder." Arthur snapped, rubbing his temple briefly before he spoke up again. "Matthew… This case has been hard on you. I appreciate your input and the help that you've managed to coerce from Doctor Braginski… But you aren't making any sense.. You're removed from the case, Agent Wang will be taking over, you may give him whatever input you can today and you will be reassigned to another case."

"…what? You're taking me off? But…but I have it…you can't…," Matthew shook his head, his jaw clenching as he swallowed harshly. Standing, Matthew gathered up his folders and papers before pushing out of the office, jaw clenched.

"Matthew?" Francis asked when the blonde was in the car that the older male had been waiting in, concern in his face as he peered at his son. "Matthew, what happened?"

"He took me off the case," Matthew murmured, his hands gripping around the folders. "….he thinks I'm nuts or something…" The blonde stiffened a little, his head tilting towards the window. "…I have to tell Ivan."

"I'll take you to the asylum." Francis stated with a concerned look towards the blonde, his fingers turning the keys in the ignition.

"Thank you," Matthew murmured softly, his stomach clenching the entire drive to the asylum. "I'll be back," the blonde sighed before getting out of the car, his hands clenched as he moved in to the asylum, his eyes downcast as he approached Ivan's cell.

"Let me guess." Ivan hummed as he looked up from the sketch he was finishing off. "Arthur didn't believe you?"

"…he took me off the case…he thinks I'm nuts," the blonde smiled a little, his shoulders shrugging up as he shook his head, a little laugh bubbling from his mouth. "Of course he does…"

"Which doesn't explain why you are here, speaking with me." Ivan tilted his head and moved over towards the glass, raising an eyebrow at the blonde. "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing…I want…," Matthew shook his head as he backed away from the glass wall, his eyes glancing anywhere but Ivan's face. "…I just wanted you to know," the blonde murmured before he turned to go.

.

"Wait." Ivan called, raising an eyebrow at the blonde as he leaned towards the glass. "Come back for a moment, please?"

Sighing, the blonde turned and slowly moved closer to the glass, his head tilting up to peer at Ivan's face. "…what is it?"

Ivan leaned closer to one of the holes in the glass, his lips parting as he took in a deep breath, sighing as he inhaled the scent of the blonde, eyes closed and lips still slightly parted. "Look for him in well-to-do places. High end bars, restaurants, perhaps he's a bellhop or a valet for a hotel… He wouldn't want to lose the connection with his sister so he would still keep the name Alonzo but his last name would be changed." The older male pressed his forehead to the glass, peering down at the blonde carefully. "Quid pro quo…"

"I'm not going after him, Ivan….I'm not that crazy," Matthew murmured softly, his eyes lowering a little as he shifted forward. His head tilted after a moment and his lips pressed to the glass over Ivan's cheek before he blonde slowly pulled back, a little smile quirking up his lips. "I'll see you sometime, Ivan…"

"Then send me." Ivan murmured as he watched Matthew leave, calling after him as the doors to the front opened. "I can find him… I can kill him… No more innocent young girls will be killed by him."

"…I can't," Matthew murmured, his head tilting back to peer at Ivan for a long moment before he walked forward, into the open door way, his footsteps increasing as he moved back to the car, his eyes closing as he leaned against the door.

Francis stepped out of the driver's side, moving to press his hands to Matthew's shoulder's and rest his cheek against the smaller blonde's curls. "Come on, mon chaton, let's go home."

Nodding softly, Matthew sighed quietly and tucked his head against his Papa's, his eyes closing as he relaxed against the familiar embrace. "Alright…," the blonde murmured softly, his hands sliding tightly between his knees.

They arrived home in a couple of hours, Francis reaching over on occasion to gently stroke at Matthew's curls and check to see if the blonde was still awake. When they did arrive home the older male gave Matthew's temple a kiss. "I'll go make some tea."

Sighing softly after a moment, Matthew moved to get out of the car, his limbs clenched and his mind racing a million miles an hour, as he slowly moved into the house and into his room. He peered at his reflection as he took a small breath, the blonde's head tilting as he moved toward his closet and started to pull out anything that even remotely looked androgynous.

—

Alonzo looked across the bar at the pretty blonde that was seated with a bright blue drink, her curls pinned up to reveal a slender throat and her sweater pushed up to her elbows to reveal the dainty curves of wrists and hands. She had bright red glasses circling her eyes and the more Alonzo looked the more he refused to tear his gaze away. She was perfect.

He wandered over in his suit, smiling down at the girl with that dashing smile that he had perfected. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Flushing appropriately and tilting his head, Matthew hid a little smile behind the curve of his hand. "Are you offering a conversation with that drink?" the blonde asked sweetly, his gaze lifting to the man's face. The mere sight of him made him want to rear back and gag but Matthew was determined and could tell quite the lie.

The man smiled, Alonzo moving to sit beside the blonde, nodding to the bartender with a gesture towards the drink the blonde was currently finishing off. "So from your accent… I can take that you aren't from Chicago?"

"Louisiana, cher," Matthew hummed, his one knee sliding over the other as he peered at Alonzo over the rim of his glasses. "First night in town and I wanted to get started on seeing all the sights," the blonde smiled, his finger twirling over the little black straw in his drink.

"Would you like a guide to show you the way?" Alonzo's hand moved to rest on the blonde's knee. "I can be an awful good sport." The older male leaned over to murmur against the blonde's ear. "I know a lot of quiet corners and fancy restaurants too."

Matthew tried not to stiffen and pull away, his body instead leaning into the man's touch. "I'd love that…and here I thought I'd never find a true gentleman north of Tennessee," the blonde drawled, his head tilting down as he took a little sip of his drink.

A few more drinks and Alonzo led the blonde to his car, not caring about her name as he locked the door and buckled himself in, driving in a winding, dizzying pattern until they arrived at his house.

It was a well kept house and when the man pushed the blonde into the living room he had little care for the mess it made of the cushions and blankets that were draped over the furniture. Long fingers smoothed over the shoulders to the blonde, cupping at soft curls as he growled and pressed his face to the slim neck. The older male tugged at the long sweater, his hands moving to cup at the back of thighs before he grinned, pulling off the holster strapped around a thin leg.

"What's this?" The man asked, flicking the safety off the gun and aiming it down at the blonde's forehead. "Hm?"

"Why, cher," Matthew drawled with a soft, pretty smile, his fingers silently curling into the fabric of the couch. "You can't expect a naive girl like me to trust the dark corners of a foreign city…you can't blame me for wanting to be a little cautious…"

The man shifted slightly, removing the magazine from the gun and standing to go into the kitchen, there was a sound of bullets thunking into the sink before Alonzo shoved them down into the very bottom of the garbage disposal.

"Well don't worry…. You won't be needing those anymore." The gun was placed on top of a cabinet in the kitchen before Alonzo returned, moving to grasp slim wrists and press them into the couch. "Any other little surprises I should know about?"

"Just one..," Matthew hummed, pretending his tremors and shakes were those of anticipation and pleasure, a little smirk spreading on his face as he tilted apart his knees.

The older male frowned as he pressed his hand between Matthew's thighs before he hummed and raised an eyebrow. "I was expecting a woman." A hand slammed down onto Matthew's throat, tightening over the column of flesh as the man's lips pulled into a manic grin. "But that doesn't mean that I can just let you go… Besides… You're quite pretty."

"Let me go?" Matthew echoed softly, feigning innocent confusion. "…now, darlin, you have to let me go..how else are we gonna' get to explore the city?" the blonde asked, his body attempting to lean away from the grip on his neck.

"Don't worry, I won't miss it."


	6. Chapter 6

Hello! We are Cat and Bee from RusCanWonderland on Tumblr.

**Disclaimers, Notes & Warnings:**

We do not own Hetalia or any characters within.

**Warnings:** Cannibalism, murder, rape, hannibal references

**Notes:** THIS IS NOT A TAME AU. It is heavily based off of the three Anthony Hopkins Hannibal movies. It does not have that many references to the newer Hannibal TV series, as Matthew claims more of a Clarice Starling role with a few Will Graham traits.

* * *

When Ivan heard the report on the news station that his television was turned on he tilted his head away from the book he was reading, staring at the screen and the picture of Matthew that was superimposed beside the news anchor.

"Barney? Barney, I need to call my lawyer again…"

He remembered Matthew's number well enough, he had repeated it over and over in his head until he had it memorized. But this time when Francis answered he knew he wouldn't get to speak with Matthew.

"Francis? This is Ivan."

"Ivan." The man sounded oddly relieved. "The man in the asylum?"

"Yes. Your son is missing?"

"He said that he'd call every day. He hasn't called and I don't know where to start looking."

"I need you to do something for me… I'm going to find him, we only have at the most two more days."

"Oh god…"

"Calm down, Francis, we'll find him."

It was a couple of more hours before Ivan claimed chest pains, crumbling down on the floor of his cell as Barney and two other orderlies came rushing down to find him. He was handcuffed to a gurney and led down the hallway. While in the elevator, Barney by his side, Ivan's free hand clenched around the taller male's and twisted viciously until there was a snapping noise.

"I'm sorry about this Barney, but Matthew needs me."

—

Alonzo narrowed his eyes at Matthew as he watched the blonde cooking in the kitchen, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the kitchen table as he watched the smaller male. He had given the boy one of Alice's old dresses, this one stained with blood from a previous girl, but still usable, still Alice's dress.

His hair was too curly, though. Alice's had been straight.

"Come here." Alonzo stated with a low growl, his fingers clenched upon the wood. He hadn't damaged the blonde's face but there were bruises and cuts in other places, along wrists and arms, over the slender column of throat and wrapped around the soft flesh of thighs. It had been three days since he had brought Matthew into the house… He didn't plan to keep him much longer now… He'd get rid of the blonde and then move to a new house.

Matthew slowly released the hold he had on the spatula, the blonde swallowing harshly before he shifted to move closer to the man, his head tilted in a well placed, frightened and submissive posture. It had been three days….three…no one made it passed three.

And Ivan hadn't come; no one had.

"Come here." Alonzo snarled, grasping hold of the blonde's chin and staring at the blonde's soft blue eyes. "Look at me." The man ordered, waiting until Matthew was looking at him before he spoke up again as he observed the blonde's face closely. "Who else knows you're here?" He asked with an arched eyebrow. "Don't lie to me."

"I don't have anyone else…," Matthew murmured his little faked southern drawl still twisting his words despite the fear that had started to grip him. "…I left because I buried my mother…"

"You're ly-y-y-ing~" Alonzo sing-songed as he gently shook the blonde's face. His hand released Matthew, resting beside a knife at the table setting before his hand raised to backhand the blonde, sending the smaller male spiralling into the floor. "I know that you have someone. Family? Friend? Do you have a lover?" The man grasped Matthew's hair and dragged him back up to peer down at him. "What would they think if they saw you like this? If they knew that you were just fucking damaged goods now?"

"…jail," Matthew managed, his face aching and his back stiffening as he attempted to remain still. There was no use fussing; it would only serve to ebb him on faster. "….my lover…he's in jail," the blonde murmured, his eyes tilting up to the man's face as he glared at him harshly. "I've always been damaged goods, cher, you've just now made it easier to see."

Alonzo's eyes narrowed and he grasped Matthew by the collar, slamming him down onto the table, cracking a plate and sending silverware and glasses scattering onto the floor. The plate was grabbed and broken upon the edge of the table before being held up over the blonde's stomach. "Well now your lover will be left to wonder who you ran off with while you're rotting in the garden."

The piece of ceramic was raised, prepared to plunge into the blonde's stomach to start the slow, painful process of his death, when there was a knock on the door, Alonzo freezing in his motions and staring down at Matthew. His eyes narrowed before he released Matthew.

"Clean this up." He ordered with a snarl, stepping back and moving to the door, running a hand through his hair to slick it back before he smiled and answered the door.

"Oh, hello, My name is Ivan Maxim, I just moved in next door."

Kneeling on the floor to gather scraps of glass and fallen glasses and utensils, Matthew stiffened at the voice; and if he hadn't been so focussed on keeping his calm he would've teared up. He was saved. Ivan was here…

Ivan had come to save him….and oh god…if that wasn't the most fulfilling feeling ever; to be safe.

Alonzo blinked slowly, peering down at the house next to his. He hadn't noticed a moving van… But the sign was gone and there was a car parked in the driveway. "I've been a bit busy… Or else I would have gone to greet you."

Ivan laughed and nodded, holding out a bottle of wine. "I'm new to the block and I just wanted to come over and say hello, I brought some wine for you and your wife." There was a sharpness in the man's eyes and Alonzo felt uneasy. His fingers twitched and Ivan could tell that Alonzo was the sort of man that wouldn't go down easily if he was expecting it… He'd have to take the man by surprise.

"Why don't you come in for dinner?" Alonzo asked with a smile and the two spoke for a bit more before moving back to the kitchen. "Ivan, this is my wife, Alice." The man stated simply, gesturing to Matthew.

"A pleasure." Ivan smiled, taking Matthew's hand in his own and kissing the skin gently. "Quite a lovely woman you have here." The older male released Matthew's hand, taking in the bruises and cuts but pretending that he didn't see them. There was anger in his face, hidden behind the genial smile, burning in his eyes as he looked over at Alonzo. "What's for dinner?"

"Chicken." Alonzo stated simply as he gathered up three wine glasses, narrowing his eyes at the way Ivan watched Matthew. Jealousy riled up in his chest at the expression and the man clenched his jaw as he gave a toothy grin to Ivan.

"So what made you move here?"

"I was a doctor, I've moved to Chicago to get away from the usual things and to work on some research." Ivan watched the man silently, carefully, his fingers uncorking the wine bottle and pouring three glasses while he listened to Matthew go continue to prepare dinner.

"Interesting, what field?"

"The medical field, dear. Isn't that what all doctors fall under?" Matthew asked softly, his face twisting into a pleasant smile despite the growing bruise on his cheek.

Alonzo's jaw clenched tighter and his teeth ground together but he resisted the urge to snap at the blonde and slap him again to get him to shut up. "You're supposed to be seen, not heard, sweetheart." Alonzo managed, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on the table as he watched Matthew.

"I agree." Ivan stated simply, casually, even as his grip on the delicate stem of the wine glass tightened marginally.

Dinner passed tensely, with conversation and small talk. Alonzo slowly relaxed through the evening as Ivan fed his ego, agreed with him on nearly everything and carefully confirmed that the man's silent fantasy was coming true.

Matthew silently swiped the last dish with the soapy sponge, his one eye struggling to stay open as he paused, his head tilting down. He just wanted to sleep, to curl up in Ivan's arms…but they were almost there. This was the home stretch…

Tilting his head, Matthew rose his damp hand and brushed his fingers where Ivan had kissed him. It was the very first time he had felt Ivan truly touch him. He would've smiled, but he knew Alonzo was always watching and all he had to do was follow Ivan's lead. Just a little bit longer….

"It's getting late." Alonzo smiled at Ivan. "Why don't you come by later in the week again?"

"Of course." Ivan stood, carefully casting a glance back towards Matthew. "Nice meeting you."

"You too."

The second the door was bolted shut Alonzo was storming into the kitchen, grabbing Matthew by the hair to slam his face into the cabinet. "You're just a little whore, aren't you? You left that lover to rot in jail, you spread your legs for me and now you're flirting with him, aren't you?" Alonzo pressed Matthew's bruised face into the cabinet with a growl.

"Of…of course not, darling," Matthew managed, though all he wanted to do was cry out, to wring himself free and use everything he could find to smash the man's face to nothing. But Matthew wouldn't give him that satisfaction, not this easily.

"Of course not, lying little whore." The older male grabbed Matthew by his waist and all but carried the smaller male to the bedroom, shoving him into the mess of sheets and blankets before his hand came down onto the smaller male's throat, squeezing until he could feel every flutter of pulse and long drag of breath. He glanced around and grabbed hold of a small mirror resting on the bedside table, shattering the glass against the corner of the nightstand before grabbing a small piece, shoving it against the arch of brow and the curve of cheek to cover one blue eye. "You're mine." There was the jingle of the man's belt buckle being undone as he fumbled with his pants but soon he had Matthew's legs spread by his own waist and the blonde's head forced against the pillows. "No one else is allowed to have you."

The man was so wrapped up in his own anger that he didn't hear the click of the back door, didn't hear careful footsteps inching down the hall at an agonizingly slow pace.

"No," Matthew whimpered, voice muffled against the thick pillow as he struggled to shift away, real fear and panic bubbling in his chest as he attempted to struggle. He could see spots from the lack of air from the hand at his neck and all he could think about was making this as difficult as a promise as possible. He shifted his legs, his feet kicking at the man's ribs and hips, desperate to prolong his actions as long as possible.

As the sounds of struggling increased the sounds of footsteps did as well until there was a hand in Alonzo's hair and the man's mouth fell open in shock as his head was propelled forward into the wall, going through the plaster into the sheetrock beneath. A smear of blood was left in the wall as the man's body convulsed over Matthew's.

Ivan's hand pulled Alonzo's head back before slamming it in again. And again, a fourth time following for good measure until the body was limp and twitching.

Ivan's breathing was heavy before he pulled back, gathering Matthew into his arms and carrying the smaller male into the living room, he pulled out the piece of mirror, cupping soft cheeks as he did so before casting aside the bloodied glass. "Look at me, look at me, I need to make sure you're alright." Ivan whispered as he stroked his hands over Matthew's face and neck, over every little injury he had before the man was certain that Matthew was alright save a few bruises and shallow cuts. "Come here." The older male ordered gently, gathering Matthew into his arms and tucking his face against the blonde's gently. "I'm here… You're safe."

It took a few moment of breathing, of letting the adrenaline from the rush of fear and panic to slowly seep from his body before Matthew's eyes were swimming with tears, his head tilting to peer at Ivan's. "….this…that was…the sweetest act of fondess I've ever seen," he murmured, relief and exhaustion seeping into every muscle as he lifted a hand to brush along Ivan's cheek. "Thank you…"

Ivan wrapped his arms around Matthew gently, cradling the blonde close and rocking back and forth. "I was so damn scared I was too late." He murmured as he pressed a kiss to Matthew's forehead. "I have to go." He murmured. "Call nine-one-one once I'm gone." Ivan didn't want to leave, not now, not when Matthew was like this, but he couldn't call the authorities and he couldn't be there when they arrived.

"No..Ivan..," Matthew shook his head, his fingers curling tight in the man's shirt as he felt his throat clench. "No, please…please don't leave…oh god," the blonde whimpered, his face tilting to press against the man's neck. "I can't….I can't lose you Ivan please don't leave me here," the blonde murmured softly, shoulders trembling as he clung to Ivan as tightly as he could manage. "Please…please don't leave me, Ivan…"

"And if I move you? I can't be involved beyond this. They'll send me back to the Asylum, or worse, I'll go to prison on death row." Ivan grasped Matthew's hands, pressing kisses to the knuckles and gently cradling soft fingers. "I'm so sorry, Matthew, I'm sorry, but I have to go." The man cupped Matthew's cheek and leaned forward to give him a soft kiss on his forehead. "Call nine-one-one once I'm gone."

Tilting his head up slowly, Matthew peered at Ivan's face, his own falling and clenching with tears before he shoved a hand against the older male's chest. He stood on shaking legs and covered his face, the blonde's head shaking slowly. "Go…go god damnit…," Matthew breathed, voice wet and harsh as he swayed as carefully as he could towards the kitchen and the phone on the wall.

Ivan resisted the urge to grasp Matthew and kiss the blonde, relief that the police would arrive any minute making him push aside the thought that he might never see Matthew again face to face. When he heard Matthew speaking shakily on the phone he left, closing the front door behind himself and not bothering with fingerprints as he moved to the car he had stolen that was parked in the driveway.

He'd be gone within the hour. Away from the entire country.

Maybe he'd go to Europe. He hadn't spoken with Feli and Ludwig for several years… If they were still living in Italy he could go visit.

Matthew was slumped against the wall, staring at the half empty wine bottle Ivan had brought only a few hours ago when the police arrived. He insisted he was fine, completely fine even as the police insisted he let the paramedics make sure his injuries were as shallow and treatable as Matthew claimed them to be.

Alonzo's trail of murders was over, and that, Matthew had to remind himself, was the reason he had done this in the first place. He should've been happy..proud of himself, something. But all Matthew could do was hurt….he wanted Ivan…and he had only had him to touch and hold and be close to for fleeting seconds.

It was better this way, Matthew knew. Ivan was free now, and he'd never have to deal with the police again so long as he kept under the radar. Matthew should've been happy for him…

A few weeks later a package arrived in the mail, no return address and double postage with a letter tucked into the top of the box. Inside the box was a small, nondescript bottle with not even a maker's mark on it, the only thing that was engraved on the surface was Matvey with the letters filled with black ink to make it stand out more. Inside was the sweet, gentle scent of strawberries, sweet peas, fleece and cream, barely there but tangible enough that it lasted for hours on end.

_Dear Matthew,_

_I'm sorry that I had to leave you in such a hurry. I hope you can forgive me. If you ever wish to find me, I'll be in Europe. Having dinner with some old friends. Be sure to keep an eye out for me. I certainly will be doing the same for you._

_Love,_

_Ivan Braginski M.D._

_P.S. Accept this gift as a token of my "fondness"… And expect more in the future as the beginning of my apologies._

Francis had given Matthew a close mouthed smile as he watched his son from his bedroom door, the man turning with a soft "I'll make some tea" before shuffling silently down the hallway.

Matthew didn't know what to think or say…he knew the feeling in his chest, in his soul was something he had no right to feel…but the blonde had clearly pushed that aside as he stood and proceeded to spray that perfume on everything; every piece of clothing, in every drawer, on every pillow and blanket.

He'd never make it to Europe…he'd never see Ivan again; Matthew had the good common sense to accept it before it hurt him too much.

One would argue it already had.


End file.
